Faith In Me
by Aria Elessar
Summary: His clouded eyes are full of pain, but he hides it. From the world, from himself. The legendary Peter Pan keeps something behind his unseeing eyes that was in his past, terrible yet yielding an unthinkable future. Wendy feels something for him. Love?
1. Clouded Eyes

A/N: I'm back! This is NOT, I repeat, NOT a Peter Pan rewrite. It has a whole different direction and story line. The only thing that is the same is the characters, meeting, setting, and a few other small things.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Please don't sue me, pretty please.

Faith In Me

Chapter 1: Clouded Eyes

A teenage girl sat at a window in London, waiting. She did not know what she waited for, only that she must. Her life was about to take a turn; a turn into an unknown alley. What lay down that alley, she could only wonder. The streak of a shooting star caught her eye, and again she wondered if she was mad. But as much as she tried to convince herself, there she stayed. Her eyelids were heavy, her head drooped in want of rest, but she couldn't fall asleep, not now. If she did, she would miss something she forever regret escaping her. And as the clock struck one, her questions were answered.

A softly glowing ball against the night sky was coming closer towards her direction. She tilted her head curiously as she gazed at it. Her blue eyes sparkled with anticipation and excitement. And then, all at once, it flitted straight past her into the room. She turned her back on the window and ran towards the spot she thought she had seen it go to. But it was nowhere to be found.

Behind her, a slight breeze and the sound of rustling leaves caught her attention. It was the middle of winter, there were no leaves on the bare, dead trees. And the breeze was warm, like the salty tickle of a warm sea air. She spun around on her heel, and cocked an eyebrow. A boy perhaps a few years older then her leaned against the wall near the window. He was covered in leaves from waist to knee, and more leaves served as a kind of strap for the dagger at his belt, but it hugged his body closely. It was the oddest thing she'd ever seen. But for some reason, she was not alarmed, only intrigued. He had windswept dark blonde hair, a tanned, toned torso and arms, and a stunning grin spread across his handsome face. He spoke in a low voice, but not especially deep.

"Hello." Now his face was serious, as though he was just as interested in her as she in him.

"Hello. My name is Wendy Moira Angela Darling. What's yours?" He answered without hesitation,

"Peter Pan." There was something about this girl that was different from anyone he'd ever met. Of the few he had met, of course. "I've heard your stories about the boy who flies. What made you think of them? They're different from any other story I've ever heard. And I've heard many." Wendy didn't think this an odd question at all, for some reason.

"My dreams, mostly. The skies are the most beautiful thing on this earth. To touch it would be... amazing. So, for my brothers, John and Michael, I told a story one night about a boy who could fly, who had adventures, and never grows up. So the stars and... that place between sleep and awake, I suppose, made me think of him." Peter stepped towards her until they were only a hand span apart. He could feel her breath on his bare skin.

"There is a way. Would you come with me, Wendy? I can teach you to fly, to touch the stars and ride the wind's back." Her breathing quickened.

"How?"

"Actually, I need my fairy first. Wait a minute." He whistled a quick, beautiful tune, and the glowing ball Wendy had seen earlier appeared from the bookshelf at Peter's shoulder with what looked like a shadow. Peter grabbed the shadow thing and put it to his foot. They joined like drops of water. He held his hand under her, and the ball shook a little.

"Is that...?"

"Wendy, this is Tinkerbell, my fairy." Wendy smiled at the light confusedly. She couldn't see the figure inside the light, but no matter. Peter blew gently across his hand towards her face. A wave of golden dust broke on her, but she didn't float. "You have to think happy thoughts, and believe, Wendy. Think happy thoughts, and believe you can fly." She tried to convince herself that she could do it, but it just didn't happen. Then Wendy looked to her feet and gasped. She was flying! Peter laughed and brought her back down with a gentle pull. He whispered,

"Come away. Come away with me to Neverland!" Then Wendy looked into Peter's eyes for the first time and stepped backward in shock. Peter's eyes were a gorgeous sea green, yes. But she could barely see that, because his eyes were clouded with white. The teenage boy she had just met, this amazing Peter Pan, was blind. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing, no, I'm sorry. I just didn't realize you were-"  
"Tall? Rugged? Handsome?" Peter interrupted.

"Blind!" Wendy said pityingly.

"Ha. I always forget that one," Peter said placidly with a ring of sarcasm.

"Well, let's, er, be off then." Wendy tried to restore the friendliness in the conversation. She heard a murmur come from the beds. "Oh! I'm sorry, can my brothers come too? They'd never forgive me if I went with you without them." Peter smiled a little and answered.

"How about just you this time, and we'll come back for them?" Peter wanted her to get used to him first, because he could sense the pity in his voice. The last thing he wanted now was pity. He could get along just as well as anyone.

"All right," Wendy agreed, then stepped onto the window ledge. Peter heard her feet slightly unstick from the hardwood floor, and so he followed after her out the window ledge into the night.


	2. Flight to a Friend

Chapter 2: Flight to a Friend

John woke up with a start. The window was open, yet a warm breeze was floating in. He spotted a strange, golden-lighted, ball hovering near it. In his excitement, he raced to it and grabbed it quickly. The light went away for a brief moment, and John nearly yelled with surprise. It was a tiny person! A woman, to be exact, with a messy blonde bun and a leaf for a dress. He relaxed his grip so he wouldn't crush the pretty thing. Now he couldn't see her again because of the glow that enveloped the creature.

John carefully stepped over the play swords and hats on the floor to his brother Michael's bed.

"Michael. Look what I've caught! Michael!" Michael peeked out of one eyelid up at John, who he thought must be delirious for getting up at such an hour. But as soon as he caught sight of the thing in his brother's hand, he sat bolt upright.

"Where'd you find that John? It's... shiiiiny."

"It was flying over by the window. Michael, I think it's a fairy!" The fairy, for of course it was Tinkerbell, was now issuing loud and indignant shrieks in protest of her capture. Then she had an idea. She quieted and bowed, the best she could while being held upright from thigh to chest, and smiled, letting down her glow. She gestured toward the window and flapped her arms up and down like a bird, feeling very silly. John understood immediately and let her go. Tink shook herself over each child and flew to the small chandelier. She smiled and pointed to her head. Michael got it this time.

"Happy thinking!" He shot up to the ceiling and cracked his head on the ceiling. "Ouch!" Tink giggled a little evilly. John rose cautiously off the floor.

"Ha ha!" he exclaimed triumphantly. He laughed and flipped over mid-air. Tinkerbell flew to the window and excitedly pointed out to the stars. John flew out with a, "Yahooo!" followed by Michael's out-of-control,

"Aaaaaaah! How do you stop this thing!" Tinkerbell stopped his flipping with a lazy flick at John's head. John laughed when he saw his brother's outrageous entanglement, and steadied him.

"I don't think you'll be able to steer very well if you're thrashing about like that! Ha ha!" Tinkerbell flew to lead the two brothers and went as fast as she could to catch up with Peter and Wendy. Michael and John could barely stay with her. It didn't take long to catch up with the pair.

"I say, Wendy! You can fly too!" Wendy wondered how they'd gotten there. Peter frowned slightly but then grinned at the new arrivals.

"All right then! Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning! Follow me!" He dived between two buildings, making Wendy scream in fear. She was sure he hadn't seen the danger and been smashed on a building. She uncovered her eyes, but Peter was floating with his arms crossed in front of him, an enormous frown on his face. Wendy's eyes shifted uncomfortably. "I know what I'm doing. Stop worrying about me just because I'm blind. I couldn't hear wind going through that section, so I knew there was a building blocking it. I'm more experienced than you think." Wendy blushed embarrasedly. Then Peter smiled again. "It's okay. Just try and get used to it." Michael blurted,

"You mean you're blind?" Peter closed his eyes agitatedly.

"Yes. Any other obvious questions?" There was a silence among the group. John broke it,

"I don't know if this is an obvious question, because it's not obvious to me. Where are we going?" Peter grinned finally.

"To Neverland!" And he shot up through the clouds with Tink trailing just behind him. Wendy shrugged at her brothers and followed. She gasped as she burst through the clouds. Her nightgown was drenched from the droplets of water forming the cloud. But even more so, she gasped at the bright lights above her.

Wendy had never seen the stars with such clarity and unobstruction before now. Raging and floating across the sky like a wildfire, violets, greens, and blues, lighting up the sky like the dawn, was the aurora. The northern lights. And the moon was so bright it cast the fliers silhouettes onto the clouds below. Wendy laughed in child-like delight. She continued to follow Peter straight up, guided by Tinkerbell's light and Peter's shadow.

Michael pursued John as they followed Wendy upward. To him, each star was like an eye watching him, guarding him in place of his parents. It was very comforting. Peter led them beyond their world, flying past galaxies and cosmos', it seemed. But all the while, there was that star, guiding their way. Peter whispered to no one in particular,

"It's been a long time, my friend." Only Wendy could hear him, so soft he sad it. She could only wonder what he meant. At the same time, a single crytal tear rolled down Peter's cheek. If Wendy had been an artist, she could not have captured that moment any better than how it was engraved in her memory. It was joyful, but melancholy, and somehow beautiful. The moon shone through it, like a pearl drop rolling on the smooth sand. It stirred Wendy's heart. She dared not ask why Peter was crying, for fear of breaking that crystalline drop.

Behind John, a ray of light broke the horizon. Actually, exactly what horizon it was he couldn't say, but a horizon. John was too busy looking ahead with amazement to care about that beautiful ray. Across a black sea that reflected the stars, was an island's shadow. The sun was just rising behind it. In a burst of multi-colored shades of light, the island was uncovered. John grinned, it was everything he had dreamed of. Michael wondered why this place looked so familiar. Wendy's eyes were dancing wonderfully. Peter sighed,

"Neverland." The jungle was a lush green. The flowers exotic and in full bloom. Lagoons and waterfalls scattered the beaches. Spots of color were everywhere. But the curious thing was, to Wendy at least, that Neverland felt magical. She felt here like how she felt when she told one of her stories. The feeling went through her being until she felt energized and as though her fingertips and toes were sparkling.

_Neverland._


	3. Something Drew Me There

A/N: This chap is a little more intellectual than adventurous, but if that's your type of story, it's coming!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, so don't sue me.

Chapter 3: Something Drew Me There

Wendy had always been able to imagine a paradise, beautiful and thick with mystery. Neverland surpassed each and every aspect she had imagined perfect with ease. She skimmed over a bush with red flowers that reminded her of tiger lilies and morning glories together. If she had cared to look closer, she would've seen intricate patterns on each petal in swirls and delicate runes. But Wendy went on, or else risked losing Peter. She marveled at how easily he weaved in between the trees. She had no idea how he did it. Especially when he couldn't see a thing. Wendy's mouth frowned in confusion.

Peter smiled as he darted through the familiar surroundings. He had been here so long, he had it memorized where each tree, rock, and cave was. It was essential. Otherwise he'd have to be like a bird, nesting in the tops of trees. He couldn't get along that way. Each tree was a landmark, so he kept going until he had reached the spot that was cleared near his hideout. Gingerly, Peter floated his toes over the ground until it found a rock with a peculiarly carved shape. Peter shifted his weight onto it with a look in the direction of Wendy' heaving breath. He smirked and winked.

Wendy reluctantly smiled back at him. She quickly studied her surroundings so she could find the place again. The carving on the rock Peter had his foot on was big enough so you could recognize it, but only if you already knew where it was. Peter amazed her again, he seemed to be able to feel the design, even if the lines had the width of a hair.

John grew impatient waiting to move on to wherever they were going from here. He was about to say so when a waterfall in front of them parted to reveal a tree behind it. It was unlike any other tree he'd seen so far in Neverland. More like a cross between a weeping willow tree and a silken curtain. The leaves were thin, fragile, gentle, yet... almost human. When Peter stepped toward it, the vines seemed to reach out and pull him through. It was like a jungle in itself. The three siblings hesitated to go forward. Peter's head poked out from the leaves and teasingly said,

"What, afraid of a tree?" Wendy stepped forward defiantly, and Peter took her hand and pulled her in. Wendy gasped when she first laid eyes on the hideout. There was a pool from the waterfall, and a small, lit hole in the base of the tree. She stumbled into the pool, and grabbed Peter in order to prevent being soaked. She felt his hands on her waist, pulling her up and out of the pool. Which meant towards his chest. Wendy's feet fumbled over the loose rocks, but she managed to get them on firm ground before she was any closer to him. She didn't want him getting any ideas.

Peter rolled his eyes behind his wet hair. Wendy just couldn't take help when it was given. She still didn't trust him.

"Just slide down that hole into the Home," he told her. Then he helped Michael and John in. Peter pressed a knot just above the door, and he heard the waterfall close the arch it had formed.

Wendy hit the bottom of the slide and tumbled into a hollowed room. She looked around at the roots that held the entire place together. Michael and John rolled down the slide into her feet.

"Smashing, Peter, this is really nice! Did you hollow this out yourself?"

"I couldn't ever do this! I just flattened the floor. The water used to drip down from that knot hole in the tree and when it rained, it rushed down. So it was created by nature. By the way, the others are coming. I can hear them running this way."

"Others?" Michael prodded. "Who's the others?"

"My friends."

"Oh?" Wendy began to take interest in the conversation of Peter's friends. "What are their names?" But at that moment, several boys slid down into the room. Peter pulled them all forward into a line. He introduced each of them to John, Michael, and Wendy. The first was probably a year or so younger than Michael, maybe six years old. He was very thin, tan, with a mop of curly blonde hair on his thin face; but his eyes were a piercing blue.

"This is Curly. Curly this is Michael, your new bunk mate." Michael looked at Curly with interest, he seemed like he'd had a right few more good rolls in the dirt than he had. Dirty people were more fun than clean people were, in his experience.

The second boy had dark brown hair that stuck out everywhere, eyes that reflected mud, was more Peter's age, ruggedly good-looking, and had a quiver of arrows on his back.

"Nibs. John will be bunking with you." John only hoped Nibs didn't snore.

The third was very young, probably four or five at the most. He was still a little pudgy with baby fat, but looked at Wendy with adoring eyes. His dirty face matched his light brown hair. Wendy couldn't help but smile at him. Behind his adoration though, Wendy saw a pool of fear, and a hard life that had made him so tender., He ran to Peter and Peter scooped him up in his arms.

"This is Tootles! You'll be bunking next to me, mate!" Tootles smiled happily and wriggled away to move his things.

The last was identical to Nibs, but hair a little longer, eyes a little softer, a little more cheerful. Wendy found herself eyeing him up and down. He most definitely was a year or two older than she was, Peter's age, about seventeen or eighteen. Peter introduced him as Slightly, and his best mate. Slightly smiled a little at Wendy, then went to move his possessions.

"You're bunking with me and Tootles," Peter called to him.

"Where am I sleeping, Peter?" Wendy asked.

"You get my bed, seeing as you're the lady here, in the next room. Behind those vines." Michael thought Curly was the most exciting person he'd ever met. He didn't know how old he was, but he knew how many battles he'd fought in. And he'd fought in a lot.

Nibs was a little gruff with John at first, but soon was chatting with him about the island, even with the age difference. John was fifteen, and Nibs was seventeen, as best as he could remember.

Everyone got together and ate lunch, then went out to see the island.

"So, what do you do all the time that puts you in so many battles?" Wendy asked Slightly.

"The pirates. Bloody cannonballs, you don't know about the pirates?" Wendy shook her head. "Peter! She doesn't know about the pirates! The mermaids? The Indians?"

"There are mermaids?" Wendy said excitedly.

"Peter! Come here and tell her about the island! Bloody storytellers, you haven't told her anything, have you..." Peter carefully picked his way over to the small group.

"There are mermaids, Indians, pirates, fairies- just like Tink- giant crocodiles, and probably other things I've forgotten to mention. The Indians are friends. They don't fly like we do, and they aren't allied with the pirates at all. The fairies die if you say 'There's no such thing as---' what they are." He raised his eyebrows. "So don't ever, ever, say that. Their dust makes people fly, as you well know. And," here Peter whispered, "they can only feel one emotion at a time." Peter stuck out his chest proudly. "The giant crocodile won't hurt you, because he's too busy going after Hook!"

"Hook!" Wendy cried. "Captain James Hook? Here?"

"Yes, of course!"

"He was in my stories too." Wendy stopped and thought.

_How can he be here? If we ever meet him, we'll never leave here alive! _Wendy thought.

"Anyway, one time I cut off Hook's hand and threw it to the croc, and it's been after him ever since. The pirates are forever after us, trying to rid the island of us. And of course, we evade them every time, and do some damage along with that. Hook and I have a special battle though." Peter sighed in mock fondness.

"He and I always manage to cross blades every once in a while." Now he laughed bitterly.

"Hook can't get over the fact that he was beaten by a blindman." Wendy heard the strain in Peter's voice to stay calm.

"The mermaids are amazing. They're beautiful, but dark creatures. They're in touch with all things mysterious. Whenever I need to now about Hook's movements, they know. If we ever go visit them, stay well back, because they'll drown you if you get close enough. We have an understanding, them and me. So I talk and swim with them freely. If I want to swim at all, they guide me. It's a very mysterious island..." Peter trailed off. Slightly put in,

"That's one of the reasons we all love it so much!" He ran off with the others. After a day of hiking and hunting, the group congregated back in the Home Under the Ground. All the boys sat together talking while Wendy sat to one side, observing. Peter sat down next to her. Wendy liked how he made her feel so at home.

"How did they all get here?" she asked, referring to the Lost Boys, that was what they called themselves. Peter laid back against the wall.

"Each one has a very different story," He gestured toward the group. "Curly's parents died when he was really young. He was sent to an orphanage where the caretaker stole the money that was given to feed and clothe them. So he ran away. When I found him, he was thinner than a twig, and stealing to eat, sleeping on benches in Kensington Gardens. He said it was the only place he felt safe." Wendy gazed at Curly with different eyes.

"Nib's and Slightly's home was torn apart by war. Nibs was a soldier, alongside his father. He watched his father die, torn apart by a cannonball. He was never the same again. That's why Nibs always plans the battles, he's the most experienced. Slightly was engaged before the war, but his fiancé left him with a richer man to escape the war. Slightly couldn't leave Nibs. Their mother didn't want them anymore. I found them huddled against the cold, watching the fairies in Kensington Gardens." Wendy pitied the twins, so hurt even when they were such young adults!

"Tootles grew up in an apartment above a tavern. His father would beat him and his mother in a drunken rage. Tootles' mother was killed when his father ran her through with a kitchen knife. Like any scared-out-of-his-mind person, he ran. For Kensington Gardens. Where I found him." Peter smiled sadly and breathed shakily. Now Wendy could see why Tootles and Peter were so close. She asked him,

"What about you?" Peter clenched his jaw and glanced Wendy's direction.

"It's not that great, you don't want to hear it. But everyone here has a few things in common. They were drawn to Kensington Gardens, the only other place fairies dwell. And they all suffered a tragedy. You are the first to be otherwise."

"So why did you just happen to come to my window?" Peter thought fast. If he told her exactly why, she might think he was a skulking stalker, and that was the last thing he needed. He shrugged and said,

"Something drew me there." Wendy stared.

"Something drew me to the window that night." Peter turned his head towards her.

"Really?" Wendy nodded solemnly. Peter waited for her answer. Wendy nodded solemnly. Peter waited for her answer. Wendy remembered he couldn't see, blushed, and said,

"Yes." Curly ran in and yelled to the room,

"The pirates are looking for us again! They just walked by the hideout!" Peter rose to his feet, glad for the change in conversation, and announced they had something a little more interesting to do tomorrow. Then he picked up Tootles and went to bed, evading further conversations, the others soon following him.


	4. Enchantment

A/N: Weelll, school is OUT! And the majority of my vacations are over. So I can write quite a bit more now. So sorry for the delays.

Chapter 4: Enchantment

Tinkerbell woke up early, as was her wont. She put on a fresh skeleton leaf and sealed it around her with a bit of magic. Her gossamer wings carried her out of her wooden apartment and toward Peter's sleeping place. She watched him fondly as he protectively cradled Tootles in his arms. Peter really was like an older brother to Tootles. Tink smiled, then moved on to her plot. This new Wendy creature was one she didn't especially like.

She pushed her way through the vines in front of the girl's door with, some difficulty. Tinkerbell flew silently over to the intruder's pillow and gently took a hold of a few locks of Wendy's gold-brown hair. The tiny being knew this room intimately as she had spent hours in it, playing with Peter or watching him sleep. She set the locks apart, then set to work.

One strand at a time, she tied Wendy's hair around a strong root that was as thick as she was. Finally, all the hair from the clump was tied good and tight. There was no way to get poor Wendy's hair off that root unless they broke off the root with a hatchet or cut Wendy's hair off altogether. She snickered evilly and went back to her morning position. Not long after, Peter woke. He gently shook Tootles awake, then went to get up all the others.

"Psst, Slightly, time to get up!" he whispered. Slightly rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and started the chain-of-command wake up call. Soon Nibs, Curly, Michael, and John were all sitting bleary eyed at the make-shift table on one side of the room. Peter made his way to Wendy's room easily. Today was, in a way, her first real taste of Neverland. Peter smirked.

_And today's entertainment: The Torment of Captain Hook. A play by Peter Pan. _Peter gently shook Wendy's shoulder once he was standing by her bedside. Peter frowned and cocked his head slightly. He drifted his fingers over Wendy's pillow and found what was wrong.

"Wendy! Get up and look at this!" Wendy rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to lift her head and sit up, but her head was jerked back down. "Wendy, look at this," Peter commanded. She let her eyes follow his arm up to what his fingers rested on. Wendy yelped.

"What happened?"

"Describe what it looks like to you," Peter said calmly.

"Well, my hair has been knotted to a root!"

"What else? What does it look like?" Peter prompted.

"The ends are sticking out everywhere, it's knotted quite closely... Oh my goodness, each separate hair is individually tied!" Peter smiled a bit wryly.

"That's what I thought. Tinkerbell!" Tink, who had been giggling herself giddy, stepped in. Peter looked a bit annoyed, tapping his foot impatiently. Tink attempted to look innocent, even though she knew from experience that this never worked, especially with Peter. But the Wendy did look ridiculous lying on the bed splayed out like that, with her hair attached to a tree! It was deliciously satisfying to Tink.

Peter asked Tinkerbell to untie the Wendy's hair. At first, she did it manually, but got sick of it and just worked a little magic. Wendy sprang up to go change and eat.

"Thank you, Peter!" She called over her shoulder.

"You're welcome," Peter muttered downcastly. Now it was Tink's turn to become irritated. Why should he care if the Wendy didn't even show a proper amount of gratitude? There was one of the reasons she didn't like the Wendy. Peter wanted attention from her, and when he didn't get it, he was hurt. Before Tink could express this properly, Peter turned on her.

"What did you do that for? She hasn't done anything to you!" Tink became angry and started to tell him just exactly what Wendy had done, but Peter didn't let her. "I wanted her to feel welcome, but you probably just ruined that! And why? Because Wendy takes the attention away from you! And you could never bear for that to happen could you?"

Tinkerbell was stung by Peter's harsh words, and fell silent from her protesting. Deep down, Peter was partially right, she usually had the attention of everyone when it wasn't on Peter, and that was the way she liked it. But to point it out, she felt was going too far. She wouldn't admit it anyway, even to herself.

"Tink, you should go and stay with the other fairies for a while. Just until you can be around Wendy without provoking her." Now Tink was so enraged that she screamed,

"Fine!" then flew straight out from the hideout.

Peter hesitated a moment, feeling guilty for telling off Tink. But he shook it off, and joined everyone else above.

"Where are we going?" Michael asked.

"The pirate ship!" Everyone shouted at him.

"All right, everyone needs to know the rules of a battle, so I'll tell the new three," Peter said. Then he roared, "Leave Hook to me!" Peter rose into the air, crowing proudly. The group followed: Slightly, Wendy, Nibs, Curly, John, Tootles, and Michael. Each carried their own swords. Nibs, Slightly, and Curly's blades had already tasted many a pirate's blood. Tootles had a sword, but he was more protected by the others than doing a whole lot of fighting.

Peter had led them into the clouds to hide until Nibs had a loose plan. Happily, they didn't have to do much. Hook had spotted them. A cannonball came whizzing into the clouds where Peter had lay not moments ago. Peter smiled. That was his cue. He wined at the others and plunged down to the ship.

"Oh, Captain Hook!" Peter laughed and twisted and turned in the air between the rigging. Wendy gazed after him, thoroughly unimpressed and in disbelief. But Slightly smiled and followed his friend with Tootles in his wake. The other boys glanced at each other and joined the fray. Wendy, sighing but extremely excited at the same time, flew down as well.

Peter was in his element, dodging bullets, daggers, swords, and other random things thrown at him. Like a piece of driftwood, a bewildered parrot... and if he was not mistaken, an old moldy fish. No one who saw him had any idea how a blind boy could do that. But he did it easily, twisting around a barrel of rum, rocketing into the sails, then diving past the helm. He was like a little imp, or a beam of sunlight. And all the while, he laughed in pure delight. Peter reached out an arm and toppled a pirate Curly was engaging in battle. Crowing, he flew a loop in the air, then descended on the first mate; Smee, a bumbling old codger who was the longest living crew member on the _Jolly Roger._ It was particularly fun to play with his head.

"'Allo, old chap! 'Ow goes it?" Peter cheerfully asked with a Cockney accent. Smee's eye twitched, and the vein that was so much fun to watch throbbed in his forehead. They crossed blades quickly, and Peter glanced at the battle on deck contemplatively. "How do you think it's going?" Peter smirked and flew away again.

Wendy stepped on the foot of the pirate who had dared engage her. She may have been an English school girl, but she had a fair knowledge of sword play. Then she stopped. Captain Hook was in her line of vision. His mass of silken black and pale skin stood out from the colors of his crew. The glint of his hook in the glare of the sun and the forget-me-not blue eyes were entrancing. Hook's eyes darted to the flying boy above the deck, leisurely sitting on air and "watching" the layout in front of him. Hook held out his sword as a challenge, knowing Peter would become aware of him within seconds.

Peter turned toward where Hook stood and grinned. Immediately he was on the deck. The pair wasted no time in crossing blades. The faint green of Peter's eyes gleamed with mischief and ice,

"Why, good morning you old codfish!"

"And it shall be your last morning, Pan!" Peter spun around and his blade clashed with Hook's again. Hook yelled and began a series of quick blows. Peter backed away for a moment and hit a metal rim of a barrel, making a ringing noise throughout the air. He stepped back in the duel with masterful footwork. Hook could swing all he wanted, but Peter seemed to always be one step ahead of him. Across the ship, Wendy could hear the ringing of Peter tapping his sword against a metal something every so often. There appeared to be a silver bar in his hand. She flew into the air so as to have a better view, and observed Peter only hitting the bar when Hook stepped away from the duel. And he always had his sword where Hook's blade fell before any normal reflexes would. Wendy was once again entranced, not by Hook, but by Peter. Peter's reflexes were inhuman, but the way his face was set, the way his muscles rippled when he moved, was spell-casting.

All around her, or rather beneath her, the battle swirled, but Wendy had eyes only for Peter. She didn't know how long it was when she saw Peter shove Hook backward forcefully with his sword and shoot across the deck. He blocked a blow from a pirate dueling by chance with Tootles, cut him across the cheek, and scooped up Tootles in his arms, all in one motion. Wendy shook herself and heard Peter whistle the signal to go back home. Hook shouted to Peter,

"Come back and finish it, you coward!" Peter darted back, and was suddenly in Hook's face.

"Don't ever challenge my courage," he whispered. And then he was gone. From the air once again, Peter shouted, "Don't worry, you old codfish, we'll dance again!" The whole rag-tag group followed their leader back towards the island.

Wendy was dazed. Peter was drawing her wonder; more and more she found herself watching him. She would admire Slightly, then find her eyes back on Peter. The battle had more effects than intended.


	5. A Pair of Scoundrels

A/N: I'm still terrible at updating, but I'm working on it.

Disclaimer: I really wish I owned some of these characters, but I just don't.

Chapter 5: A Pair of Scoundrels

John had been amazed by everyone's ability with a sword. He was envious. Michael was glad everyone was more skilled than he, because they had protected him. Even little Tootles was better then he was. As soon as the group had cleared the last green tree, they landed on the edge of the Indian Camp. Michael was awed. All the stories he had ever heard seemed to be coming t life here. He watched the dogs wrestle with one another, the horses trot around their corral, an old man crushing leaves, a tendril of smoke wafting from the ashes of a small campfire on one side of the camp.

John's fantasies were coming to life as well. A group of beautiful Indian ladies sewed by a teepee, chatting in their native language, an Indian squaw herded small children towards their mothers, another beautifully distinguished girl looked at John and smiled. She seemed to have more feathers in her dark hair, more designs on her doe skin dress. John tilted his head and grinned. Then he noticed that everyone else was gone.

"'Allo!" he shouted. He frantically ran all around the camp, much to the Indians amusement.

_They must've gone inside a tent..._ But he couldn't just go around opening tent flaps and asking where his friends were. The girl he had seen earlier tentatively approached him and took his hand. A wave of heat washed over his face, and he could swear his face had just turned as red as his mum's rose garden. The Indian girl's nostril's flared and her mouth twisted as she fought back a laugh. She lead him to a large teepee and opened the flap, gesturing that he go inside. John glanced at her, managed another smile, and stepped inside to where his friends sat waiting.

"I say, John, where have you been?" John mumbled something about getting distracted and plopped down next to Nibs. Nibs nudged him and raised an eyebrow, smirking. John punched him and began paying attention to the Indian speaking.

"Princess Tiger Lily came to this island from her mother six and ten rain seasons ago. This moon, we dance and feast to give thanks for Tiger Lily's coming of age." The girl who had helped John find the tent stepped forward.

"So you're Princess Tiger Lily?" he blurted. She nodded and smiled. John blushed furiously.

_A princess!_ Peter remembered the new trio and told their names to Tiger Lily and the Chief. They were going to stay for the celebrations that night and next. Slightly took the lead out of the tent, guiding Peter for the first time ever. They trooped out and began to help with the preparations. John followed Tiger Lily from a distance. He thought she was very pretty, but didn't know what to say to her. If she turned around, he ducked behind a tent or a horse, embarrassed that he stalked her. Tiger Lily caught on quickly, turned around, and walked back towards John's hiding spot. He panicked and stopped in his tracks. The Princess stepped right up to him and said,

"You like to help?" Dumbfounded by the fact that Tiger Lily had spoken to him and the silvery tone of her voice, John stood, staring. Then he shook himself and nodded. "Help gather wood?" Again he nodded stupidly. She led him to the woods and pointed him towards a big burly squaw who looked as though she would eat him. John gulped and looked for his death sentence from the Princess. She gave him a reassuring nudge forward. The squaw pointed them to a piece of the forest no one had gathered in yet. John thought he'd be going alone, but Tiger Lily followed him in. His palms began to sweat. Both of them reached for the same piece of wood, and John's hand landed gently upon Tiger Lily's. He blushed again, and turned away. Tiger Lily cleared her throat and asked,

"How many summers do you have?" John thought for a second.

_How many summers do I have?_

"Sixteen winters, actually," he replied, "Six and ten. Just like you!" He was relieved they had at least one thing in common.

"How did you earn your feathers?" he asked. Tiger Lily smiled beautifully and told him the story, among others about her tribe. They very quickly, to John's intense pleasure, were talking like old friends.

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Michael followed Curly around for a bit, but there really didn't seem like there was much to do. After he got bored, he wandered into the woods to have a look about the dense clusters of leaves. He looked around, then suddenly dropped low on his hands and knees.

"Hostiles, by Jove, William! We'll have a right difficult time getting out of this one!" Michael took up a piece of flat bark in his teeth and began crawling, using only his forearms. "Look, William! They're head-hunters! Cannibals, perhaps!" He crawled a bit further, suddenly stabbing the ground with the strip of bark. "Ha ha, that'll teach them to try to track down me, Jones, the bravest explorer at Her Majesty's service!" For of course, he was pretending.

Michael went backwards, crawling away from his imaginary foes. He hit something. Something soft. Something furry to the touch of his bare feet. Michael felt the something with his toes. Unable to decipher what the something was y touch, he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Horror overcame his face, and he screamed like a whistling tea kettle.

The bear stumbled back and away from him, startled and growling. Michael stopped yelling and watched it quietly.

"You're just as afraid of me as I am of you, aren't you?" He could see the bear was just a cub, and it was caught in a trap. Even Michael's freckles paled as he surveyed the damage. The cub's ensnared leg didn't seem to be broken, but it was bent at an angle it probably shouldn't be going. Michael edged closer, eyeing the bearling. He put his hand on the trap, intending to set the cub free. The cub roared what small yowl he could to warn the boy off. Michael recoiled and sat down in front of he bear, arms crossed and glaring, sticking his chin out defiantly.

"I'm only trying to help!" he said indignantly. The cub licked it's own nose eagerly, as if to say,

"Try that again and you'll become a tasty treat." Michael worked his way forward over the next half hour, getting the cub used to his presence. Finally, after another quarter hour, the small boy was able to free the cub from the cruel trap. The cub stayed put after pulling it's paw forth. It stared at Michael curiously. Michael commanded,

"Stay here," and ran off to join the festivities that were beginning.

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John got painted and feathered before the pow-wow sort of thing. He fingered his feathers nervously as he approached the fire. Tiger Lily was in a place of honor, even if it was only a pile of furs that she sat on. She smiled charmingly and motioned for John to come sit near her. Before he could weave his way over, a muscular man got there first and sat on her right hand side. The left side of her was reserved for the Chief.

John sat across the fire from the Princess, sorely disappointed. The man who had sat next to her smiled and talked to Tiger Lily, who politely conversed but smiled only half-heartedly.

John surveyed her unobserved for the first time. Her dark hair wasn't black as he thought before, but a rather a rich dark brown. Her eyes were a surprising golden-brown, big with long lashes. Tiger Lily's face was heart shaped with a small cherry nose. Her figure betrayed her for a woman. Small wonder so many warriors were eyeing the princess.

She glanced John's direction longingly more than once. After a while, John could see a glint of annoyance in her eye. The muscular man she talked with kept touching her arm, John noted with jealousy.

The night wore on, dancing and music whirled all around the youth, but all he saw was the endless line of warriors who came to Tiger Lily's side. Wendy, Peter, Tootles, and Slightly talked on one side of the fire, Curly, Nibs, and Michael to another. When he couldn't stand it any longer, John rose to his feet.

_My toes have an evil mind of their own_, he thought with surprise, and they lead his feet through the dancers and crowds to Tiger Lily. His mouth unwillingly unhinged itself and asked the Princess if she would care to take a walk with him. His brain went numb when it registered that she had consented. Tiger Lily thanked John over and over for taking her away from the fire. Her voice was soft and light as she spoke.

"All of them only want to be the Chief. It's only in their favor that they think I'm beautiful. Six and ten seasons- sixteen," she corrected herself, "is the age many girls marry."

"You get to pick who you marry, right?"

"Yes, but has to be a man who's a warrior, and has this, and this, and this..." she trailed off. "Come," she said. Tiger Lily too John's hand and pulled him to a clearing. "Look." His eyes followed her pointing finger.

Fairies circled around them beautifully. He realized quickly,

"They're dancing." John looked at the Princess, to find her gazing at him. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he breathed huskily. Tiger Lily moved closer to him. He bent his head to better look in her eyes.

"You're beautiful, too," she said. John laughed. "You have a strong jaw, brown eyes, dark hair, a little muscular, and tall. What's the word?"

"Handsome?" he suggested hopefully.

"Yes." Tiger Lily looked at the moon again. "Let's go back," she said, "I'm ready to face them." John caught her wrist, in a last attempt. Tiger Lily's eyes met his, and on the spur of the moment he moved forward and kissed her. She didn't push him away, but when he broke it, the Princess looked down.

"What's wrong?" he asked nervously.

"I shouldn't have let you do hat. I'm supposed to wait until I'm married."

"Can't you have any fun?" he murmured sadly. Tiger Lily looked up fiercely.

"Who ever follows that anyway? Not supposed to, not supposed to. We'll have some liveliness before you leave or I marry." She suddenly stood on her tiptoes and kissed John. He smiled. Neverland had just become more fun.

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Michael returned to the cub with a loaf of bread and some fruit he had nicked. The cub was still there, and accepted it. It began to lumber back through the forest, and looked over it's shoulder at Michael with a twinkle in his eye, as if to ask,

"Are you coming, or not?" Michael followed it, deciding to name his new companion Scapegrace.


	6. Fire Dance

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers! Please R & R. The next chapter is already written and WILL be up within a few days. Cross my heart.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING.

Chapter 6: Fire Dance

Wendy had been the one to cradle Tootles during the night. They had fallen asleep in front of the fire, amidst the dancing and singing. The light was just beginning to come over the trees. She felt a warmth at her back, and warm breath on her face that smelled like honey. Her eyes opened to find Peter barely six inches from her face. Wendy lifted her head and saw that the warmth on her back was Slightly's back. She attempted to go back to sleep, but it was too late, her mind was racing.

Gently, she eased Tootles into Peter's arms, who gripped him readily, and stretched her legs walking across camp. Wendy spotted Jon and Princess Tiger Lily eating with the old medicine woman and rushed over.

"'Allo Wendy!" Jon greeted his sister over enthusiastically.

"Hello Wendy," Tiger Lily said quietly. "Did you enjoy the dancing last night?"

"It was brilliant! Does everyone in the tribe know how to dance like that?"

"Oh yes, even the small ones learn after twelve or thirteen harvests. Tonight, everyone who did not dance last night, dances tonight or does some other special thing for the ceremonies."

"Oh. But I don't have anything to do!"

"Nor do I," Jon put in. The Princess smiled.

"I will teach you to dance!" Wendy exchanged a mortified glance with Jon. Neither was extraordinarily graceful. Wendy was more suave than Jon, but she still worried she would make an idiot of herself. "Do not worry, you know it so well by the time we are finished, you not miss a step." Tiger Lily pulled the siblings to their feet, placing them so they faced each other about a handspan apart.

"First one we do is more... like when we say corn is like the sun..."

"Symbolical?" Jon offered.

"Yes. Symblical."

"Symbolical," he corrected.

"Symbolical. The dance is symbolical of the hunt. The excitement of pursuit." The Princess took them through the steps of the dance, taking most of the morning to make sure they knew it. But they caught on quickly enough.

"The next dance is more symbolical of two lovers and their passion. The dance appeals to the First Lady, and she gives a gift to the honored one at the dance. It is much more... close together, touching one another..." Tiger Lily looked to Jon for help.

"Sensual?" a voice said. Wendy jumped and turned to see Peter "watching" the three.

"Yes, sensual. It is about the passion of your dance that appeases the First Woman, not the perfection of step. Most find passion comes easier with step knowledge. You start like this." The Princess placed one of Jon's feet back and one forward, and then moved Wendy's feet to fit them together like a weaved basket. Jon giggled at the awkwardness of being in this position with his sister. Tiger Lily proceeded to arch Wendy's back and tilt her head backward. Jon she pushed forward and forced his head directly above Wendy's. Wendy's hands both were placed around her brother's shoulders on the nape of his neck. Jon's left hand was on Wendy's shoulder blades, his right on the small of her back, near her waist.

The threesome didn't stop for a mid-day meal or to help begin preparations for the fire. By the end, Wendy felt she had known the dance her whole life.

"You're a good teacher, Tiger," Wendy panted. The Princess seemed surprised by the nickname.

"Thank you. You are a good learner."

"A good student," Jon corrected.

"Yes, that." Tiger Lily rolled her eyes at Jon, who smirked. Peter strolled over to Wendy as Jon and Tiger Lily left the site.

"Wonderful! You did catch on a bit faster than I did."

"You know the dances too?"

"I had to learn them, I'm with the Indians a lot. But I didn't have such a kind teacher as Tiger Lily."

"I'm so hungry now," Wendy complained.

"Would you like to come down to the creek with me and eat? Fresh fish!" he taunted in a sing-song tone. Wendy licked her lips, remembering supper at home- their cook made wonderful fillets.

"I'd love that. Fish is one of my favorite meals!" Peter smiled and lead her to the edge of the camp. Wendy saw Slightly gathering up their things for when the Lost Boys and the three siblings left that night. "Slightly! Want to come with us? We're going to the creek to fish!" Slightly looked up at Peter the same time Wendy did. Peter's face was a masked smile.

"Sure, come on."

"Brilliant! Let's go, Slightly." Secretly, Peter was annoyed and angry. It wasn't Slightly's fault, but he had hoped it would just be him and Wendy. Instead of flying, the three walked to the creek. Wendy wondered how Peter did it. Still, she didn't want to ask. Slightly and Wendy talked, Peter and Wendy talked when Slightly refused to say more on a matter, and Peter and Slightly conversed while they created nets of reeds and tall grasses.

As the sun began to set, Wendy licked her fingers (boorishly, she thought) and enthusiastically thanked her two companions. In order to be ready by the time the festivities began, they flew over the trees and rushed off to get ready.

Wendy was painted up in white and gold and given a dress to match. There was no back on the dress, and it was cut halfway up her thighs. It was white and had no straps. She stepped out of Tiger Lily's tent just behind Tiger herself. The Princess was a vision of purples, blues, and white- like a night sky.

As they approached the fire, Wendy could see Jon painted like a warrior, and Slightly like one of the male dancers from the night before. Peter and Tootles were warriors as well, Nibs and Curly in red, black, orange, and blue, more like the fire.

The first dance was as the Princess said, the thrill of the chase. Slightly danced with Wendy through it, Peter silently "watching" them with unseeing eyes, lit with jealousy. Wendy was beginning to sweat when the drums finally stopped. She and Slightly sat to wait for the next dance.

"How long have you been in Neverland?" Wendy asked him.

"Not long, I'm sure. But time is so different here, it feels like an eternity. Almost like I've always been here. And there's so much to do, so many mysteries. But you know what? Peter himself is the biggest mystery of all. You know, he doesn't grow old?"

"What?"

"No, never. It's baffling, but I can't seem to make myself ask him about it. Every time I try I forget, or something more important happens. There's magic about him."

"Magic? You think so?" Wendy said thoughtfully.

"I'm jolly well convinced," Slightly replied.

"How is it that he can do most everything better than someone who can see?" Slightly was silent. "Please?"

"You'll have to find that out from him, Wendy."

"Why don't you tell me?"

"It's... Peter's secret. Not mine. You ask him." No matter how much Wendy prodded him, he refused to say any more.

Silently, Peter approached the pair. He was nervously sweating, his fingertips damp.

"Wendy, do you... want to dance with me for this next one?" He sounded so hesitant and nervous, Wendy agreed. Everyone else had taken their places. Peter put his hands on Wendy's shoulder blades and back. She positioned herself to match Peter, placing hands on the back of his neck. She braced herself for the most painful dance of her life, expecting her partner to step on her toes and bump into her and everyone around them. How good could he be, even with everything else he was so good at? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tiger Lily and Jon readying themselves.

The beat began, slow and steady. Slowly, the couple rose, as one, like a string connected them. Her hand dropped to her side, tensing as though she summoned something. As one, they took a step, then two more quick steps. Both Wendy's hands shifted to Peter's shoulders as he leaned back, mimicking what she had done just before. Her hair brushed his face softly. Peter's milky green eyes roamed over her face. He came up, his gaze never leaving Wendy.

The beat quickened, ever so slightly. Wendy turned her back to Peter, heart thumping with the drums, if not louder. She stepped, curved her back forward and down, and drew herself slowly up. Peter's chest met her bare back, and for reasons she could only guess at, a shiver went up her spine.

Peter felt it, and the warmth that followed. He knew what made that shiver run, and was awed he had fueled it. His hands were on her hips, chin on her shoulder. Wendy's head was turned from him, eyes closed. She could feel her way through this dance. Wendy dropped to rest on her heels. In unison with every other female around the fire, she turned in a circle, hands outstretched to the sky. They spun higher and higher, finally standing with arms raised to the stars.

Peter caught Wendy's waist, and he dipped her low, head bowed. The two fitted themselves together again as they did in the beginning. The beat hastened. Faster and faster they whirled around the fire, it heated the dancers own desire. Peter came around back to back with Wendy. They laced together their arms and legs, supporting one another. Wendy tipped her head back onto Peter's shoulder involuntarily. Now Peters bare back tingled, and Wendy felt it.

They moved as one body, retreating and advancing, shifting back and forth, arms caressing the wind together. Wendy freed herself on one side and turned to embrace Peter passionately. Both were fully aware of every place their bodies touched. The audience cheered at the final pose. Without warning, Peter felt himself step aside and brush Wendy's cheek with his lips as he passed her.

Wendy stood dumb-founded and blushing furiously with her hand on her cheek. Slightly strolled up to Wendy, whistling cheerfully.

"Interesting, how an entire perspective can be turned with a single action. Judge by what you feel, not what you see. How do you feel?" Wendy just stared at him. "Well, it's time to pack up and leave. Come along." Wendy wondered what she was supposed to think or feel right now, but she followed .


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